The True Hero
by SecretAgentBobJoe
Summary: At age sixteen Alex Rider has finally reached his breaking point, his entire family is dead and he is slowly but surly being destroyed by missions that MI6 keep sending him on. Is it truly to late for Alex Rider or can he be saved after all?


**Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider or anything else that you recognize. **

**Hey everyone this is a one-shot that I just randomly thought of when I finished watching a really depressing movie and needed someway to vent so I wrote this. There will be character death! If you don't like, don't read. **

It was a normal day in downtown Chelsea London. People bustled around, all having something to do or people to see. This day would have been like any other if an old woman had not looked up to admire the beautiful Evergreen Hotel and saw the figure standing on the ledge, forty stories up. Her scream of horror echoed around the streets and it wasn't long before a crowd gathered, all gazing up in horror. Little did they know, this day would be remembered for much more than a figure on a ledge.

- Don't Mind me, just a line break-

This had all started with a teenage boy, age sixteen, named Alexander John Rider. There was no other boy in the world that was like him or even have any claim to be like him, there never would be. He had no family left by the time that he was fourteen, his mother and father were killed when he was just a year old when his psychotic godfather, who was later shot to death, planted a bomb on their plane in order to be accepted into the terrorist organization called Scorpia. Alex was then taken care of by his distant uncle Ian who was barely around until he was killed in a supposed car accident, he was really assassinated by a assassin named Yassen Gregorvitch. A woman by the name of Jack Starbright who was the Rider's housekeeper at the time of Ian's death, but she soon followed in the footsteps of all the other caretakers of Alex Rider and was killed later that year when the car she was riding in blew up. All of these deaths may seem like a horrible chain of bad luck but Alex Rider knew better, it wasn't bad luck. It was life, after all his family is known for their supposed luck of the devil.

These horrible things seem like the worst thing that could ever happen to a person but they are downsized by one thing, a terrible secret. Alex Rider was the one and only teenage spy for Military Intelligence Sector Six. A spy since the day that his uncle died. That is the one thing that really caused this day to happen, he was tired of being used.

-LINE BREAK!-

A phone's shrill ring pierced the office building, cutting through the almost silence that was only broken by the shuffling of paper and the clicking of keyboards. The office building was home to the Chelsea police department, although it did not look like it. Crime was not a overly common thing in Chelsea, ever since the drug dealer's barge had been dropped on their front doorstep it had been fairly quiet. So when the phone rang several people looked up in surprise while others just continued to work, dismissing it as nothing. The secretary that picked it up was a new one and had never had a serious call come in before so she answered it calmly, like she always did.

"This is the Chelsea police department, how may we help you?"

"_We have a situation downtown at the Evergreen Hotel...It's a jumper on the fortieth story. He asked for Winters." _A man's voice said from the other end of the phone and then, before the secretary could say anything, hung up without another word.

The secretary was stunned into silence, thoughts racing through her head so fast that she couldn't even focus on them before they were replaced by another, then there was only one. _Suicide? _She thought, _No one had committed suicide in ten years! And even then they didn't jump, no one jumped. _She shook her head to dispel these thoughts before picking up the phone and dialing the number that would connect her to the Winter's residence. The phone rang for awhile and she began to wonder if she had the wrong phone number or if she wasn't going to pick up, then the ring cut off.

_"Hello?"_ Asked a woman's voice from the other end, sounding slightly irritated but the secretary couldn't blame her. It was only eight in the morning and most people were still sleeping if they didn't have to get up for work.

"Is this Mara Winters?" The secretary asked, putting on her polite voice* that she used for when she was on the phone only.

"This is Winters and who is this?" A suspicious female voice asked from the other end.

"This is Amelia Johnathan from the Chelsea police department, I am calling because we are in need of your assistance." Amelia said in her professional voice that she reserved for talking on the phone.

"What do you mean you need _my _assistance, you already have a negotiator that works in the police department?" Winters said sounding irritated and was about to hang up before the secretary said something that made her freeze in place.

"The current negotiator refuses to do it because it is a sixteen year old boy."

"What?' Winters asked stunned, that was not what she was expecting.

"He is downtown at the Evergreen hotel on the ledge of the fourteenth story, he asked specifically for you." Amelia said in a slightly rushed voice, hoping that Winter wouldn't hang up.

"I will be at the seen in five." Was all that Winters said before she hung up.

* * *

Downtown a crowd of at least fifty people had gathered and it was growing by the minute. Police men were scattered around setting up a perimeter made of yellow tape to keep the gawking bystanders back while keeping their eyes on the figure fourteen stories above.

Moments later three black SUVs sped up to the curb and just barely stopped before men in black suits began to pile out of them forming a human shield of sorts around the center SUV whose door swung open more slowly and calmly than all the others and one lone man stepped out. Everything about the man was grey and life less, even his clothes, his eyes were grey, his hair, and his skin. The grey man, better known as Alan Blunt, surveyed the scene with emotionless eyes before his eyes followed the same path as everyone else in the crowd, up to the figure on the ledge.

Unlike everyone else Alan Blunt knew exactly who that figure was and why he was there, he was also the one who wanted him alive the most.

**Whoo whoo! The first chapter is officially done, thank goodness. I have been working on this periodically for literally months, yeah I know its sad but writers black can do that to you. Anyway thank you to anyone who read this and I will try to update within the month!**

**-SABJ**


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